


The Prince, the Thief, and the Witch

by theotherauthor



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Action/Adventure, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Other, POV Second Person, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, in case you're actually here for the plot, smut will be indicated with an asterisk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-05-14 01:31:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19263265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theotherauthor/pseuds/theotherauthor
Summary: Three years after the fall of the Calamity, peace has been all but restored to the land of Hyrule. With monsters dwindling in numbers, and the Yiga Clan in decline, travel and trade between Hyrule's lands is easier than ever. With Hyrule Castle and the surrounding town rapidly returning to its former glory, it has come time to finally crown Princess Zelda, now twenty years old, as Queen Regnant of Hyrule. Even after a century, the peoples of Hyrule are overwhelmingly in support of their princess' ascension to the throne. However, nothing good can ever stay. Just when everything is falling into place, the entirety of Hyrule is rocked on its foundations, as a ten-thousand-year-old curse is unleashed upon the land, leaving countless victims in its wake. Now, the united peoples of Hyrule must come together, find the source of this curse, and snuff it out. Pulling together a group of skilled warriors, scholars, scientists, and one thief-turned-escort, Princess Zelda and Link, the Hero of Hyrule, set out with their new team of champions into uncharted lands, in order to unlock an ancient mystery and stop this ruthless curse.Now just where do you come in?





	1. A First Impression

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh, BOTW 2, eh? Anyways, enjoy this story while it lasts because it'll be irrelevant in [blank] years. 
> 
> Content warnings for each chapter will be in the end notes, so scroll aaaaaall the way down for those boys.

Few can imagine a scene more heavenly than Zora’s Domain on an early summer night. Painted in moonlight, the timeless sanctuary transformed into something dreamlike, the chitter of crickets the only sound heard over the continuous rumble of waterfalls. The luminous architecture of the upper domain, as elegant and refined as one would expect from the children of Nayru, reflected off the shimmering waters below, dancing with the moonlight. The scent of freshwater and dewed grass hung on the balmy air, the slight humidity only adding the the sleepy atmosphere. The greater number of the domain’s residents were tucked away in their homes, nestled into their waterbeds or lying tranquilly beneath the surface of a pool. Those remaining outdoors were almost entirely members of the guard, with the occasional night owl or insomniac taking their midnight stroll. Since the fall of the Calamity, almost three years ago, an unprecedented time of peace took over the region of Lanayru, giving the Zora Royal Guard reason to behave more leniently than typically expected of the prestigious group. There was simply no need to pretend that the domain was in any danger, therefore, no need for overwhelming security. 

 

_Perfect._

 

Back against the moonlight, you looked down upon the quiet, luminous citadel from your position in Upland Zorana. You had monitored the guards’ general pattern for some time now, and confirmed that the information your employers had given you was true. The guards’ route was especially predictable past midnight, so there was very little chance of being spotted now. You stood at the edge of the cliff and took a deep breath, steeling your nerves before pulling on the hood of your wetsuit, tucking your silvery hair beneath the taut fabric. Looking back at your grapple and tugging on the rope for the umpteenth time, ensuring it was secure, you turned and walked backwards off the edge, descending into the domain. Leap after leap down the cliffside, you reveled in the stomach-rising sensation of falling and the wind rushing past your face. You took this time to go back over what you knew: Behind the upper domain, beneath the great waterfall, was a partially-underwater cave system, containing a few residential areas, but more importantly, housed the Inner Palace. Tucked away and virtually unreachable by non-zora folk, the location of the Inner Palace was the perfect defense against thieves, invaders, and any other unsavory actors who wanted to harm the royal family. Within the Inner Palace was the royal family’s personal chambers, the guards’ barracks, the treasury, the servants’ quarters, and several other halls of political and cultural importance. You were only after one room, however. 

Planting your feet on a grassy bank near the great waterfall, you swung your well-worn rucksack from off your shoulders and kneeled as you unbuckled and flipped open the patchwork leather top. Reaching inside, you hoisted out a cylindrical device, about the size of a bread box, and gave it a good once-over, checking for any potential damage it could have taken during travel. A cobbled-together thing, as most of your creations tended to be, the device was still guaranteed to do its job, that being: propelling you through an underground river fast enough that you wouldn’t drown. The odd machine had handles on either side, each lined with a set of switches to control speed and direction, and on the back, a caged propeller, preventing the accidental slicing off of appendages. 

Wading your way into the shallows—the crisp waters re-invigorating you—you waited until you were about chest-deep before slipping on a pair of goggles and kneeling into position. Pressing your torso length-wise against the device, you took a deep breath as you pushed yourself off the muddy floor, silently praying to whatever gods above that you would make it through the tunnels before your lungs burst. Pointing your body towards the lakebed, you set off into the depths of Zora’s Domain. You figured that you must’ve looked quite silly, especially when compared to the elegant movements of the zora, but then again, it was better than ending up a waterlogged corpse for some poor aquatic bystander to find on their way to the morning market. 

Thankfully, the domain’s geology was as luminous beneath the water as it was above, allowing you to barely make out your destination through the haze of turquoise. Descending beneath the great waterfall, you felt a bone-rattling sensation, several tons of water pressing down upon you, until finally, you broke the threshold, venturing into the lower domain. You heard nothing but your heartbeat, now slowing as your previous trepidation transformed into awe. Gliding through an immense, sparkling chamber, you moved your head about, attempting to fully take in the intricate structures now surrounding you on all sides. Beautiful and mysterious, the architecture was similar to that above, expertly carved out of the cavern walls over thousands of years. The gravity-defying domiciles jutted outwards towards the center of the cavern, which served as a sort of “main street”, you would call it, through the lower domain. You noticed, curiously, that many of the buildings, specifically those protruding from the walls and ceiling, didn’t seem to have floors—with many of the structures interconnecting like a series of crystalline mazes. You then realized that there was likely no use for floors or staircases down here, where the residents were constantly afloat in some manner. You began to feel a strange warmth blooming in your chest, which you at first assumed was just your heart giving out on you due to lack of oxygen. You realized that you must be feeling some sense of pride, mostly in the rarity that you, a hylian, were able witness these structures in all their splendor before you would likely be banned forever. 

You could feel your lungs begin to burn as you approached the main entrance of the inner palace, a yawning chasm framed by a luminous grand gateway, lined with intricate carvings of zora heroes and deities, and accented with glimmering pearls, shells, and sea glass. Crowning the entrance was a giant statue, similar to the one looming above the throne room on the surface, and though you tried, you could not for the life of you remember what that creature was called. Lord Jaba… something? Your knowledge of deities was spotty at best, not that you ever particularly needed it. In any case, it must have been an important deity, at least to the zora. That, however, is not what you were here for. Going through the main entrance would undoubtably seal your doom, as the entire area was likely crawling with guards, or at the very least a politician or two. Instead, you steered your body away from the main gate, towards the cavern wall beside it. Squinting your eyes, you scanned the expanse of cerulean stone, barely making out a luminous cluster jutting out of the smooth surface. Approaching this unusual cluster, you were relieved to find the entrance to an extremely narrow tunnel, just large enough for a hylian with a death-wish to squeeze their way through. If your sources were correct, this narrow passageway happened to collide with another tunnel that served as one of the many hidden entrances to the palace. _If your sources were correct_ , that is. You were fully willing to turn around and hightail it back to the surface on just one lungful of air if it meant not having your bones trapped in some underwater crevice until the end of eternity.

Entering the tunnel, you instantly regret not bringing some sort of protective headgear, feeling the walls of the claustrophobic passage brush against your arms, hips, and scalp as you carefully steered your body like thread through a needle. After nearly concussing yourself on a few rogue stalactites, you were more than pleased when your world opened up into a larger tunnel, one obviously carved out by hand rather than forming naturally over millions of years. Finally, _finally_ , as your path began to tilt upwards, you spotted your release from this suffocating trek: a large, shimmering surface lying only a few meters above you. You would sigh in relief if your chest weren’t about to combust. 

Breaching the surface, you took in a few giant gulps of air, attempting to regain your composure as quietly as possible. Wading your way to the pool’s edge, you realized that you were now in the middle of a wide, circular chamber, surrounded by marbled statues and a smooth, domed ceiling far above you. Reaching the edge, you heaved your propulsion device onto the flat, stone surface with one arm, and removed your goggles with the other. After lifting yourself out of the pool, you decided to take a brief moment to collect yourself, turning to lie back on your forearms with your feet dangling over the side. That moment only managed to be a fraction as long as you’d hoped, however. You were jolted out of your stupor by the sound of faint voices echoing down an adjacent hallway, reinvigorating the adrenaline in your veins. Luckily, you had just enough time to grab your propulsion device and hastily tiptoe your way behind one of the chamber’s many statues before your would-be discoverers caught sight of you.

“This shift’s going to be hell. I hardly got any sleep today,” yawned out a voice, female you assumed, as two pairs of footsteps plodded their way into the chamber. You smiled to yourself, finding the sound of bare-footed scales on smooth stone rather amusing. 

“What did I tell you about staying up and gambling with the others?” another female voice, younger, but more stern, bounced around the chamber, “The Captain’s going to be _pissed_ when he finds out what you’ve all be up to.”

You noticed the light clinking of metal as the two made their way to the pool, “ _If_ he finds out,” the first voice continued, a clear smirk in her tone, “That is, if your old man becomes privy to our habits and _he_ tells the Captain—“

“And why _shouldn’t_ I tell him?” the second voice retorted coyly, “Unless you give me a good reason not to?”

“How about this,” the first voice chimed, “ _You_ let us continue, and _I’ll_ give you… fifteen percent of my winnings?”

“ _Torfeau!_ ” the second voice sighed, “Honestly, sometimes I cannot _believe_ you’re my superior. Aren’t you supposed to be setting a good example?”

A pause, the sound of their footfalls ceasing. You felt your heartbeat increase as you began to wonder if somehow, you had been discovered.

“Make it twenty, and we have a deal,” said the second voice, the first responding with a hearty chuckle, before the second quickly added, “—but don’t think I’m just going to _lie_ if the Captain starts asking questions!”

“ _Sure,_ sure,” the first voice replied, “After all, I wouldn’t want to set a _bad example_ , telling you to _lie_ to the Captain.”

Both zora shared a brief laugh, before you heard one splash into the pool, the second yet to follow. After a brief moment, you heard something resurface.

“Dunma?” the first voice rang throughout the chamber, “What’s wrong?”

Another pause, before the second voice asked, “Do you smell something?”

 

You held your breath.

 

“Smell something? Like what?” the first voice wondered.

“Like, something… earthy? I don’t know, it’s just strange smelling that down _here,_ ” the second voice mused, before adding, “Nevermind. It’s probably nothing.”

You heard a second splash, followed by nothing, and waited until the slapping of waves against the side of the pool faded into silence, before finally exhaling, a wave of relief washing over you. Taking a deep, calming breath, you inwardly thanked yourself for thinking to bring your wetsuit. You had only heard stories of the zoras’ keen sense of smell, which transformed into something god-like underwater, and your sources had reminded you of such a skill prior to your journey. To combat this, you designed a particularly insulating type of wetsuit that would not only mask your own unique, hylian scent, but could also absorb other scents as a sufficient cover—in your case, mud and grass. Though likely not the _smartest_ choice of scents considering your current location, it was far better than a zora guard picking up on the alarming scent of an outsider, a hylian, within the confines of the inner palace.

Peeking out from your hiding spot, you confirmed that you were alone and slid your propulsion device back into your now-soaked rucksack, slinging it over your shoulders. Emerging from your hiding spot, you looked upon the large statue, which depicted some gracefully-posed zora figure. As you made your way around the pool, noting several similar statues lining the circular chamber, you couldn’t help but notice that, while beautiful, these figures made it incredibly easy for you to hide. The zoras’ tendency towards lavishness would surely be their downfall, you thought. Well, _downfall_ was perhaps a tad too dramatic, considering your line of work, but nevertheless, these aquatic folk were surely too confident for their own good.

After peering through the archway the guards had entered from, you began your hasty trek through the palace, noting how the ancient hallways were all supported by luminous archways, similar in design to those overhanging the Great Zora Bridge. Light on your feet, with only your wetsuit providing a thin yet substantial barrier between you and the floor, you barely made a sound, save for the light jostling of your rucksack and the small devices hanging from your belt. You were careful to keep your movements smooth enough, however, that the noise was barely noticeable. Occasionally, your path would open into a wider space of royal significance, lined with historical artifacts sealed behind glass. Among these artifacts were ancient sculptures, pieces of rare, specially-crafted armor, weapons wielded by monarchs long past, and other such ming-bogglingly expensive objects. Briefly, the thought crossed your mind, just how much these pieces of history would fetch on your side of the ocean. You would likely be set for life based on one sculpture, one weapon, one piece of lightscale armor alone. The thought made your head spin with avarice, but this was not the time to entertain such temptations. For now, you only had one objective—one that may not set you up for _life_ , but for a good long while. That is, if you made it out of here in one piece.

Going back over your internal map of the palace, or at least the one your sources had given you, which you had gone over practically dozens of times before and dozens more in your sleep, you weaved your way through the azure halls, realizing just how easy, how tempting it would be to get lost among the echelons of stone. Surely, if you did not have a map to review beforehand, you would have been turned around and utterly stumped a painful number of times by now. You wondered how those who lived and worked within the palace possibly knew their whereabouts half of the time. Perhaps those keen zora senses had something to do with it, you thought.

After a few minutes of winding through the palace, you finally reached a scene of familiarity, a checkpoint in your mental map: the famed Hall of Murals. Well, famed to the zora, perhaps—you were unaware of its existence until only a few days ago. This particular hallway was large, both taller and wider than any of the halls you saw thus far, with two, rectangular, luminous pools on either side, traveling down its length, casting veins of light onto the walls and ceiling. The walls, of course, were covered in massive murals, extending down its entirety, as well as stretching upward to meet at the apex of the curved ceiling. Upon closer inspection, you realized that these murals were, in fact, made up of thousands of small stones—a vivid mosaic of lapis, turquoise, marble, and dyed glass, accented with bits of luminous stone, giving it all a sense of life and movement. You couldn’t understand much of the subject matter, just that it consisted of various zora you did not recognize. Not that you exactly had the precious time to analyze such a grandiose work of art. It was indescribably beautiful, yes, but the over-saturation of gaudiness began to wear at your nerves. The entire palace, from floor to ceiling, seemed so unnecessarily opulent compared to the more humble dwellings you were used to. To it’s credit, however, the shimmering spectacle did assure you of one fact: you were tantalizingly close to your target.

Pressing on, you exited the Hall of Murals, entering a corridor with three branching paths. You took the path in front of you, which held a wide set of stairs leading up to yet another hallway. After plodding up these stairs, upon which you realized just how winded you were, you reached the top to discover a set of tall, curved double doors only a few paces in front of you. Exhaling a deep, heavy sigh of relief, you approached one of the doors, pausing briefly to draw your finger over a few of the more intricate carvings on its surface, and reached into a small, burlap satchel fastened to your sparsely-occupied utility belt and retrieved a set of lock-picking tools. The zora-sized door allowed you to merely hunch instead of crouch, setting yourself at eye-level with the elegantly-curved handle, but as you raised your lock pick to begin your work, you paused. You fidgeted, feeling yourself becoming antsy at the amount of time you had already spent within the palace. The more time you wasted on tasks such as lock-picking—especially on what was undoubtably a sturdier lock than what you were used to—the more likely it became that you would be caught. You decided to try jiggling the handle first, on the off-chance that it was left unlocked and you could avoid lock-picking altogether. Placing a grip on the handle, you titled it, and had to prevent yourself from guffawing when the door effortlessly swung open. You stood, simultaneously baffled, yet thankful, at the sheer overconfidence and naivety the zora royalty must have possessed, before swallowing down your giddiness and stepping forward. Finally, after what felt like hours, you had made it to your destination: the crown prince’s chambers.

You were confident that the prince was not present, as it was well-known that the diligent zora worked late into the night. Stepping into the cool, pleasantly-scented chamber (you couldn’t put your finger on it, but it smelled like oakmoss, or some sort of quirky local fauna), you heard the faint sound of running water, much like a babbling brook. From your vantage point, you could see that the prince’s chambers were split into three rooms, all sparsely lit by several small columns of luminous stone, bathing the entire area in a cool, calming hue. Though the lighting was dim, visibility was still plentiful, and you took stock of your surroundings as you sauntered about. The main chamber you had entered into appeared to be the prince’s office, complete with a large, specially-crafted stone desk, with a chair made from similar material, its back decorated with the typical lattice designs found throughout the domain. The only other features in this room were a rather impressive weapons display on the far wall behind the desk, a few expertly-painted vases containing vibrantly-colored, kelp-like plants, and a tasteful light fixture made from welded silver hanging from the concave ceiling. You were genuinely surprised at how spartan these quarters looked thus far, considering who resided in them.

To the left of the main chamber was a wide archway, which appeared to lead to the prince’s personal library, complete with a lavish sitting area. To the right was a similar archway, likely leading to the prince’s sleeping quarters, as you could clearly see a large pool from where you stood. Veering right, you decided to search the sleeping quarters first, pausing briefly to investigate the pool. Easily taking up a quarter of the room, the shimmering, clear waters emitted from a small fountain carved from one of the far walls, which explained the sound you heard earlier. You wondered if this fountain served as some sort of filtering system, since one of the zora’s most impressive engineering feats, in your opinion, was their freshwater filtration and plumbing systems, which put hylians’ attempts at such things to shame. Luckily, the zora were historically generous, and shared this information freely with the hylians who sought it. Perhaps there was a book on it somewhere that you could snag…

Snapping out of your curiosity-fueled stupor, you inwardly cursed yourself for being so easily distracted by feats of technology. Taking one last look at the pool, you noticed that its floor contained a mosaic made from seashells, turquoise, cerulean stone, and what was likely real gold, you noticed. Not finding what you were looking for, you sneered at the flashy, glorified bed and turned to investigate the rest of the quarters. Setting to work, you drew your hands over the walls, feeling for any sort of button or trigger hidden amongst the decorative carvings. Other than the pool, there was nothing notable or surprising the quarters, save for a large, glass display containing pieces of armor and various other ornamentations. You figured that this was the closest most zora got to having wardrobes. Resisting the urge to pilfer the translucent treasure trove, you moved on to the washroom, and discovered it was just as disgustingly fanciful as the rest of the royal suite. You saw yourself in a giant mirror, your reflection cementing just how dirty and haggard you looked against the pristine backdrop of the palace. Chuckling to yourself, you investigated the washroom, and after finding nothing of note, returned to the sleeping area. 

The only objects left worth searching were an ornate set of dresser drawers, carved from similar material to the prince’s desk. Drawing your hands carefully over the glass knobs, you proceeded to root through the prince’s belongings, which mostly consisted of journals, trinkets, and other princely accoutrement you cared little for. You felt around the inner walls of the drawers, in case the trigger happened to be built into the furniture, but found nothing. You _did_ come across the prince’s most recent journal, however. A lovely, leather-bound thing with a seashell pattern pressed into the cover, you decided to give it a brief flip-through, your curiosity getting the best of you. Thumbing through the pages, you noticed a couple of things: one, zora-made parchment was treated with some sort of waterproof, waxy material, which explained how the hell they even got books down here in the first place, and two, the prince’s prose was just as flowery and sickeningly saccharine as you expected.

 

_6-14-03_

_Myself and a few of the guard, Gaddison, Rivan, and Torfeau respectively, set out early to meet a group of Gerudo merchants at Wetland Stable to give them escort to the Domain. Since the fall of the Calamity, we have been eager to reestablish the old trade routes between ourselves and the Gerudo, as we are helplessly unable to traverse the vast desert ourselves. Hopefully, our new friends will find their accommodations hospitable. Ledo, as usual, put special care into Upper Zorana’s newly-built structures, even going to far as to seek the aid of hylian architects in order to make the Domain more comfortable for our more land-dwelling visitors. The weather was fair, and the journey successful, in part due to the lack of monsters roaming the area since Link’s triumph. Among the merchants were two jewelers, their names Isha and Cara, I believe, who own a shop in Gerudo Town. They gladly showed me a few of their wares, and I was thoroughly amazed! The level of craftsmanship involved in the creation of such treasures could easily rival our own artisans! They graciously gifted me a piece I had been eyeing, and I attempted to reciprocate, but humble as these lovely people are, they politely turned me down. Perhaps I could find a way to properly thank them during their stay._

_Over the course of our journey I asked several questions about the Gerudo and their home. I’ll admit I was perhaps overly eager, but the kind group humored my curiosity. One of the guards that accompanied the merchants, her name was Barta, I believe, relayed to me a story involving a monstrous creature that roams the desert, stalking its prey beneath the sands. I could hardly believe such a creature existed in all of Hyrule! I asked if I could possibly be shown the creature if I were to visit someday, and the guard laughed at my brashness. She replied that seeking out the creature would be dangerous, but I offered that perhaps with our combined strengths, we could slay the monster and make the desert more safe for the Gerudo. She must have found my optimism jarring, for she simply stared at me, but before I could apologize, she gave a hearty laugh and replied that her chief may take me up on that offer. The Gerudo and the zora seem to have more in common than I had previously thought. A calm and stoic exterior belies a truly passionate and kind people—_

 

You released an exaggerated huff of boredom as you flipped the journal shut, returned it to its proper place, and pushed the drawers closed before sauntering back into the office. Mimicking your treatment of the sleeping quarters, you felt along the walls, stopping occasionally to scoot a vase out of the way or check behind a luminous pillar, before deciding to investigate the prince’s desk. You didn’t realize just how large the desk was until you stood next to it, the custom stonework easily reaching past your chest. After climbing into the comically large chair, feeling much like a nosey child searching through their parent’s study, you scanned over the contents neatly strewn about the desk: an organized stack of parchment—most awaiting the prince’s signature—a long, shimmering silver quill, a few bottles of octorock ink, and another journal—which you discovered was an agenda rather than a personal recollection of events. The only objects that piqued your interest were a small, covered platter perched on one corner of the desk, and a framed picture propped up on the other. You investigated the platter first, finding a folded note sitting next to it addressed from some “Laflat”. After drawing your fingers over the pretty, delicate handwriting, you curiously lifted the platter’s domed lid to discover a few small pastries, lovingly baked and dusted with powdered sugar. The image seemed achingly familiar, and the stinging sensation in your stomach was a frank reminder of how long it hadbeen since you had a decent meal, let alone something so tantalizingly sweet. Resisting your base instincts, you placed the lid back down and distracted yourself with the framed picture, picking it up and bringing it closer for inspection. Only after a few moments of scanning the image did you realize that it wasn’t some highly-detailed miniature painting, but an exact replica of the captured moment. You’ve heard of this technology, pioneered by the ancient Sheikah, but only recently re-discovered within the past century and was still in fairly limited use. Even so, you were unsurprised that the zora royal family would have access to such advanced technology. 

The image depicted two young hylians, one that you recognized as the miraculously-still-alive Princess of Hyrule, her silky golden hair falling loosely over her shoulders, an easy smile decorating her face, causing her eyes to crinkle in that appealing way. The hylian next to her, however, you did not recognize: a more stoic-looking boy with deep blond hair and even deeper, ocean-blue eyes that you found almost too striking. Despite his lackluster expression, he seemed happy. You wondered if this was simply the princess’ good friend or perhaps a consort, and whatever role these two played in the zora prince’s life, you had no idea. You cared very little for the complex tangled web that was political relationships, especially in this part of the world. The only other detail you found amusing about the image was the odd angle at which it was taken. In fact, it almost looked like the princess’ friend was maybe holding the device that produced the image, but at arms’ length. 

Putting the picture back in its place, you finally began to investigate the inner contents of the desk. After digging through the drawers, fiddling with the knobs, and reaching an arm beneath the desk’s surface, grasping for a possible switch, you let out a puff of frustration, once again coming up on nothing. All that was left now was to investigate the library. Practically vaulting yourself from the prince’s chair, you took only a few steps before you were interrupted by a sound coming from outside the chamber. Your heart leapt into your throat when you realized the sound was a pair of voices growing louder as they approached the double doors. Leaping back beneath the desk, you noticed that your feet were still very much visible, and after what felt like eons of grappling with thousands of ideas swarming through your head, you ended up acting on impulse once you heard the sound of footsteps right outside the door. Using the desk’s size to your advantage, you pressed your palms against one wall of the desk, propping your feet up on the other, and hoisted yourself into a spider-like position, pressing your back against the underside, length-wise. The height of the desk allowed you to hold yourself aloft, even with your pack still on, but you quickly realized you may not be able to hold yourself in this position for long. You didn’t have much time to worry, however.

“—that won’t be necessary, Tottika. Tell them they can take the rest of the night off, if they wish. Have a good night, my friend!” you heard a voice that was far too loud enter through the door and shut it behind them. You swore inwardly as footsteps made their way to the desk, before pausing.

“Hm? What’s this?” You heard the sound of paper being moved from the desk. _Oh, the note._

After a few moments, you heard a soft, endearing chuckle, which made you feel slightly less unnerved, somehow. That is, until you heard the desk chair sliding against the floor, and were soon met with the sight of stark white and vermillion scales, mere inches from your nose. You wanted to bang your head against the underside of the desk at how absurdly stupid this entire situation was. This was it, this was how you were going to be caught: ogling at the zora prince’s impressive thighs while screaming internally. By now your muscles were thoroughly burning, and you mentally thanked the stars above that the desk was made of sturdy stone, otherwise your shaking limbs would have given you away by now. You heard the sound of parchment, and wracked your brain for any idea of how to avoid falling into the prince’s lap, noting the rapid thumping of your heart and hoping that the zoras’ hearing wasn’t nearly as good as their smelling. Suddenly, the sound ceased, and the prince’s voice chimed, confusedly, “Why does it smell like dirt in here?”

_Oh, come on._

A knock on the door grabbed your attention, prompting the prince to respond, “Come in.”

You heard the door open, and a youthful, male-sounding voice say, “Prince Sidon, Captain Bazz would like to speak with you about some changes in the schedule.”

The prince sighed, standing up from his chair, much to your relief, and made his way to the door.

“I told the captain that he was free to do what he wished with scheduling. Hylia knows he’s far more concerned with such things,” the prince chuckled amusedly, “Well, Tottika, I suppose the night is far from over. Let’s be off, then.”

You heard a faint, “Yes, sire,” as the two zora exited the chamber, the door clicking shut behind them. You waited until you could no longer hear footsteps puttering down the hallway before you unceremoniously collapsed onto the floor.

Taking a moment to catch your breath and allow your limbs to stop stinging, you groaned as you peeled yourself off the cool stone, and weakly climbed out from under the desk. You shook out your arms and legs. Now was not the time to be exhausted, you thought. You still needed to investigate the library. As you made your way around the desk, however, the silver platter, now uncovered, caught your eye. Greedily, you took one of the small pastries, figuring that you would not be around long enough for it to be missed. 

 

Just as the flaky, delicate thing was inches from your lips, the door opened again without warning.

 

It felt like time had stopped. You and the zora prince, who was _much_ taller than you had anticipated, stared at each other with the same shocked expression for what felt like several minutes. In reality, it was _just_ enough time for you to react first. Abandoning your stolen pastry, you chucked it at the prince’s face with impressive accuracy, buying you a few more milliseconds as the zora reflexively batted the thing away with a bewildered expression. You lunged towards him, simultaneously unsheathing the baton attached to your belt, extending it with a flick of your wrist. The poor prince had only partially unsheathed his sword before you thrusted the end of the baton into his stomach, a single, white-hot spark and a loud _snap_ producing from the collision. The prince’s entire body tensed, a grimace painting his features. He didn’t yell in pain, as you imagined he probably wanted to, as his hold on the sword’s handle tightened, but did not move. You swiftly moved to the prince’s side as he dropped to his knees, pulling him towards you and accidentally dropping your baton in the process. You grunted as the large zora’s weight pressed into you, but managed to cushion his fall somewhat, preventing the possibility of unsavory attention by the clattering of metal and a very obvious _thud_ coming from the prince’s chambers. 

“ _Oof,_ okay, down you go,” you began as you lowered the zora to the floor, practically cradling the back of his head, er, _tail_ , as you went, noting that this was the first time you had ever felt zora scales and almost regretting that it had to be under these circumstances. Standing up, you saw that the zora’s eyes were wide with fear, and you almost felt sorry for the poor, paralyzed prince. Stepping over him—well, more like lunging, considering his frame was easily twice yours—you turned, looking down at him.

“I’ll admit, you certainly caught me off guard. Luckily for me, and uh, not-so-luckily for you, I’m great at improvising,” you stepped over and retrieved your baton, noticing how the prince’s eyes grew wider, a small, panicked noise emitting from his throat, and finding some satisfaction in the fact that a _prince_ , an 11-foot, razor-toothed one no less, was _afraid_ of you. You smirked, furrowing your brow in mock concern.

“Don’t worry princeling, I’m not going to _kill_ you,” you began as you sheathed the baton, “Assassination is _far_ above my pay grade.”

You turned, casually making your way into the library, “Besides, I’m not really in the mood for the entirety of Zora’s Domain to want my head on a pike for killing their golden boy.”

You quickly scanned over the library as you entered, inwardly cursing at yourself for not investigating it first. Tall bookshelves lined the walls on either side, carved from the same stone as everything else in the prince’s quarters. In front of you was a comfortable-looking sitting area, complete with a large, plush chair, a similarly large chaise covered in intricately-embroidered pillows, a small table supporting an unlit, glass lamp, and a hand-woven basket filled with soft, colorful blankets. You wonder, briefly, how they managed to get all these things down here without ruining the fabrics. Scanning the bookshelves, you drew your fingers over the fanciful, gilded spines, noting the prince’s variety of reading material. 

“You know,” you began, projecting your voice back towards the collapsed prince, “you’re lucky that I remembered to lower the voltage on my stun baton! I’m so used to using this thing on land-dwelling bandits, not aquatic royals,” searching through the books, it didn’t take long for you find the spine of a small, unassuming blue book with no title. It was a bit too perfect, you thought, a bit too unused compared to the hundred or so well-loved novels beside it. Standing on your tip-toes, you reached up and tilted the book towards you with your fingers. Instead of succumbing to gravity and plopping onto the floor, the book froze in place, a clicking sound triggering beneath your feet. A smirk broke across your face as the bookshelf began to move on its own, the sound of stone sliding against stone meeting your ears as it sank into the floor, revealing a tall, narrow passageway behind it. “Of _course_ ,” you chuckled to yourself, “It’s _always_ the last place you look.”

Stepping over the threshold and peering around the passageway, you heard a shuffling from the office floor and a grunt of urgency as the prince attempted to regain control of his muscles. “Calm down, princeling!” you barked back towards the adjacent room, “You’ll get your faculties back in a few minutes,” you entered the dark corridor, before smugly adding, “ _Just_ enough time for me to get out of here.” 

It didn’t take long for you to reach the passage’s end, as the slender corridor opened into a larger, dimly-lit room with a small, luminous pillar at each corner. In the center was a stone pedestal, and atop of it was a thin, glass container protecting what you had journeyed all this way for: the Zora Sapphire. Well, technically _sapphires_. Three large sapphires cut and polished into perfect spheres, all held within a gold frame painstakingly welded to recreate the trademark crescents of Nayru’s emblem. Overall, the entire thing was barely larger than the palm of your hand, but was likely worth more than the upper and lower portions of the palace combined, more for its historical significance than anything else. Putting your goggles back on, you unsheathed you baton, reaching back and thrusting the handle into the glass barrier. The sound of shattering glass echoed down the passageway, and you paused, waiting in anticipation for an alarm or trap to be sprung. When nothing happened, you reached for the sapphire, drawing your fingers along the smooth metalwork before snatching it from its cushioned throne. However, the moment you placed the treasure safely within your satchel, something heavy slammed directly behind you.

 

_Shit._

 

You turned to find your exit blocked completely by a thick slab of stone. You weren’t too surprised, rather, you were angry at yourself for being so bull-headed. Of _course_ the place was booby trapped! There was likely a pressure plate hidden beneath the pillow supporting the sapphire! Before you were able to shout any obscenities and hit yourself over the head, however, the sound of running water shocked you out of your frustration. An icy tendril of fear crawled up your spine as you turned to find the chamber quickly filling with water. Great. _Great!_ You thought, banging the side of your fist against the unyielding wall of your tomb. No, _no._ You needed to _think_. This was _not_ the time to panic. _Think._ The water _had_ to have come from somewhere. You looked up to find a set of four grates now housed within the ceiling. They must have revealed themselves when the trap was sprung, you thought. Perhaps if you had looked hard enough when you first entered the chamber, you would have noticed the peculiar indentations in the ceiling that marked their location—

Stop. _Think._ The water was most likely being channeled in from the lake outside, and if so, may have relied on gravity to fall into the chamber. If it relied on gravity rather than some sort of pump, then the weight of the current would perhaps die down once the chamber was full. From your position, it looked like the grates were _just_ large enough to accommodate a hylian of your size. If you managed to pry open one of the grates, you could feasibly swim through the channel and escape the palace, granted the channel wasn’t a mile long. Which was a possibility. Admittedly, this plan relied entirely on wishful thinking, but it was certainly better than standing around and waiting to drown. Instead, you stood around and waited until the water was high enough for you to reach the grates. After what felt like hours of wading, you were finally close enough to reach out your arms, grasping one of the grates in both hands. You violently jostled the metal, cage-like thing, tugging on it with all your might, but it refused to budge. Even after turning yourself upside-down, with your head submerged, using your legs as leverage to pry it off, it would not give way. You considered, briefly, moving onto the other grates, but as the waters now only gave you mere inches of air, you decided it wasn’t worth the risk. Time was precious, and you needed to act fast.

Making a split-second decision, you removed the propulsion device from your rucksack, prying off the metal cage protecting the propeller. Taking one last, sacred gulp of air, you pushed yourself down and away from the ceiling as the last few centimeters of air were consumed. Pressing your feet against the top of the pedestal, you aimed the propeller-end of the device against the grate above you. Bracing yourself, you activated the device, fighting against the force of the propeller as the feeling of metal against metal shuddered through your bones. Looking up, you began to see pieces of the grate coming apart against the propeller’s sharp blades, gradually forming a passage for you to swim through. Suddenly, the propeller snapped off, jolting you from your position and sending the rest of the device flying across the chamber. Figuring it would be of no use to you now anyway, you abandoned the broken thing and launched yourself off the pedestal and through the crude opening you had made in the grate, flinching in pain as you felt a piece of jagged metal cut right through your wetsuit, slicing into your arm. Ignoring the wound, you set on, finding no current to stop you from swimming through the stone channel. It was a tight squeeze, but thankfully you had just enough room to drag your arms along the edges of the tunnel, pushing yourself forward, allowing your momentum to gradually increase as the air in your lungs forced you upward. Your ears popped and your chest burned, your only guide in the dark a faint, azure glow some ways in front of you. As you began to feel panic and hopelessness creep to the forefront of your mind, you emerged from the tunnel and into an underwater chamber, but before you could properly get your bearings, you were violently swept away. Disoriented by the unexpected current, your attempt to regain some semblance of control was cut short by the back of your head being dragged along the cavern wall, tearing off your goggles in the process. You reflexively curled in on yourself, holding your new wound in both hands and allowing yourself to be completely at the mercy of the dark, rocky passage. Squeezing your eyes shut, you could only focus on keeping yourself from gasping for air, opening them when you noticed faint light behind your eyelids. The current had dragged you into a different chamber, lit by clusters of luminous stone, and while you were unable to see much through your blurred vision, you felt something unusual permeate the space. The walls were smooth, unnatural, and in the center you could barely make out a large, tooth-shaped monolith protruding from the floor, but before you could glimpse much else, you were swept away into another darkened tunnel. The pressure on your lungs soon became too much to bear, and you coughed involuntarily, sending a small amount of water into your nose and throat. Fighting against the urge to cough again, as well as the horrible, stinging pain in your sinuses, you suddenly felt your surroundings expand. Immediately, you pushed off the mouth of the rocky exit, propelling yourself outward, then upward, into the open water. You swam with all your might, pure adrenaline surging through your veins, until finally, you broke the surface. 

Gasping for air, your body convulsed, coughing until your throat was aflame. Barely managing to reach the shore, you first noticed the muddy, grassy earth beneath you, as you crawled on all fours, hacking the last bit of water from your lungs. Collapsing and rolling onto your back, you looked up at the stars, gazing at the wispy, moonlit clouds dancing between them. You closed your eyes and breathed deep, coming down from your adrenaline high, focusing on the small waves gently lapping at your feet and the cool breeze gliding across the surface of the water as you resisted the urge to black out.

Then, you noticed the faint sound of shouting somewhere above you. Bolting upright, you careened your head around to find that you had washed up on a small patch of land tucked snugly beneath the eastern cliffs of the domain. Above you, you saw the eastern bridge leading away from the upper palace, and behind you stood the towering structure of the dam holding back East Reservoir Lake. Straining your ears, you could make out the sound of urgent yelling, and noticed the silhouettes of several zora diving into the water from the far side of the domain, likely heading towards the Inner Palace. You sighed. You were caught, subsequently putting the entire domain on high-alert, but luckily, most of the attention was being drawn away from your escape route. Looking up at the cliff face beside you, you attempted to judge if there were enough grips for you to climb. It was too high for you to grapple, and since you were bleeding, escaping via waterway was no longer an option. Not the you had any interest in entering bodies of water _ever_ again. Baths be damned. You stood, wincing as your muscles protested, and decided to climb, rubbing your hands together before securing your first grip. It felt like hell, but at least you could breathe.

Reaching the top of the cliff, you poked your head over the edge, finding that the guard previously posted at the eastern bridge was pleasantly missing. Hauling yourself up and over, you brushed your dirt-covered hands off on your damp wetsuit before making a brisk jog over to the staircase leading up to the reservoir. At this point, you decided to pace yourself, considering you were on your last leg in both distance and energy. No need to over-exhaust yourself when you had pretty much already escaped. Unfortunately, the gods tended to hate you. Halfway up the stairs, you heard the unmistakable blare of a horn echo throughout the domain, and a half-second later, felt something whiz past your head and clink off the smooth wall beside you. Cursing, you bolted up the rest of the staircase. Somehow, a guard had spotted you in the darkness, and from quite a distance away, you figured. The zora must have had some amount of natural night-vision, you thought, as you heard a second, then third arrow barely miss your sprinting form. Reaching the top of the dam, you looked back out over the domain, only confirming your suspicions as the sight of several far-off figures made haste after you over the eastern bridge. You dashed across the dam, noticing and ignoring the odd sight of a bed in such an obscure place, and reached the southern cliff, pressing one foot against the surface and kicking yourself upward, giving your climb a head-start. Vaulting over the edge, you began your trek across the Ruto Precipice, perking your ears for bowstrings being snapped taut over the sound of screeching crickets and rushing water. When no arrows came, you slowed a bit, noting the imposing silhouette of Vah Ruta on the horizon. The moon was high as you passed into the divine beast’s shadow, and you found it funny, as it almost looked like the ancient thing was casting judgement upon you for your sins. Reaching the end of the precipice, you leaped down onto Rutala Dam, grunting as your ankles stung at the clumsy impact. After this, you would be sleeping for a _long_ time, although you were not too excited for the rude awakening your body would get after. If you ever got the chance, that is. You wondered if all the trouble it took to get this glorified chunk of rock was truly worth it. Not that it mattered, now. All you needed was to cross the dam, get to Ja’Abu Ridge, and descend into—

You heard a splash from the reservoir, and were promptly knocked back onto your ass when something large landed directly in front of you. Your heart leapt as the sapphire fell from your satchel and clattered onto the floor, sliding a foot or so across the smooth stone. Quickly reaching behind you, you grabbed the gemstone and pushed yourself back to your feet. Your eyes widened as they traveled upwards, genuinely shocked to find the prince standing there, confidently, as if he wasn’t just electrocuted minutes ago. Moonlight glinted off the silver ornaments adorning his form, water droplets gliding effortlessly off his shimmering scales. He regarded you with intense, yellow eyes—narrow pupils making you instinctively crouch, unnerved. Finally, the prince spoke.

 

“Hello!”

 

_…the hell?_

 

The prince continued, undeterred by your confused expression, “While I _am_ impressed that you managed to get the drop on me and escape almost certain death—I admit, I was rather worried,” although he was smiling, his eyes showed brief concern, “—that’s _quite_ enough excitement for one night, don’t you think?”

You squinted, searching the prince’s expression for… you’re not sure what, before turning to leave.

“Please, don’t run away!” he yelled after you. Pausing mid-step, you looked back over your shoulder, eyebrow raised.

“I mean, if you’re going to run away, don’t go _that_ way!” the prince continued, “My guards are right on the other side of the precipice, and as you’ve probably noticed, they don’t think too highly of you. I’d rather they _not_ shoot at you, but unfortunately your crimes have been… rather steep.”

You rolled your eyes, turning back towards the prince and crossing your arms. If the prince wanted to talk, fine. Not that you were going anywhere, now. Nevertheless, you were suspicious, and now that you were getting a good look at him, you noticed a nasty yellowish-purple bruise beginning to appear on his lower-right side. No, you thought. There was _no_ _way_ he was actually concerned with _your_ safety. Not after that. 

Seeing that he had your attention, the prince smiled gently, his eyes drawn to the cut on your upper arm, “Please, you’re clearly hurt, and you have nowhere to run. Now, there _must_ be a good reason why you would risk life and limb by stealing _that_ ,” he gestured to the sapphire, still gripped in your palm. Slowly, you began to move, attempting to circle around the prince as he continued his spiel, “So, what is it, young one? Money? Fame? …Survival?”

“I don’t need your analysis, _princeling_ ,” you finally snapped, irritated at the attempt to interrogate you. The prince raised his hands in a placating gesture, “What I _mean_ is, whatever reason it may be, _this_ isn’t the solution. If you surrender and come quietly, I’m _sure_ we can find some way to help you! I promise, I won’t allow anyone to harm you.”

You paused, your back now to the wall bordering the dam. On one hand, holy hell, you were _tired_ , and it didn’t help that the prince was extremely convincing on top of being stupidly handsome. On the other, your jaw clenched at the prince’s tone. It was the same tone someone would use to lure in a stray animal, to pacify them and eventually keep them. It was belittling, and you wanted to hate him for it. 

“Please, understand,” the prince’s voice became uncharacteristically soft, “That sapphire means much to my people. It would be devastating to lose it,” he finished, holding out a hand to you.

 

You made a decision.

 

Cautiously, you began to raise your arm, holding out the sapphire. Eyes gleaming, a wide grin spread across the prince’s lips as he took a step towards you, reaching for the stone. You held your breath, and your pulse increased.

 

“Prince Sidon!”

 

A voice echoed from behind the prince. Looking past him, you saw two zora guards in the water, each holding a silver bow. Aimed directly at you.

“Don’t shoot!” the prince turned his shoulders and whipped his head back towards the reservoir, extending his arm in a halting gesture. Seizing the opportunity, you reached over with your empty hand and unsheathed your baton, but the sound immediately re-captured the prince’s attention. _Just_ as you were about to land a blow on his unblemished side, he caught your wrist with one large, clawed hand. You yelled in frustration, wrestling with the zora for control, turning and hitting him in the stomach with your elbow. He grunted, but did not release you, and in an act of desperation, you activated the baton, hoping that it would come into contact with _something_. He twisted your arm, and among the chaos, you heard a snap as the electric tip connected with the sapphire in your other hand.

It felt like time had stopped as the entire world erupted in light. Both you and the prince were thrust backwards, thousands of burning blue fractals erupting from where you once stood, crawling upwards and forming a barrier several feet high. As quickly as it formed, the light began to dim, leaving behind a mass of swirling sapphire cooling in the breeze. Prince Sidon blinked, pushing himself back onto his feet as he observed the impossible thing. Once the blue gleam faded completely, it began to crumble, fragments of stone peeling off like ash and disappearing into the night sky. Sidon looked down and to the side, his eyes drawn to the baton abandoned on the floor, and heard small, rapid footsteps from behind the disintegrating barrier. Dashing past the thing, Sidon looked up in horror as he witnessed the top of your head disappear over the edge of the dam. He immediately vaulted himself up onto the wall, practically scrambling to look over the edge, fully expecting to see your poor hylian form in a heap at the bottom of the canyon. Instead, he watched in awe as you turned midair, tossing your grappling hook at full-strength. Miraculously, it caught onto one of the ledges halfway down the dam’s structure. Firmly grasping the rope, you turned to catch yourself as you swung into the wall of stone, landing horizontally on your feet. The prince could only stare as you repelled down the dam with shocking finesse, then glided down the rocky slope into the river below. 

“Prince Sidon!” the voice of Captain Bazz rang out from behind. Sidon turned to see him and Lieutenant Gaddison approach, stopping at the base of the wall to briefly investigate the remnants of the spiraling barrier.

“What on earth was _that?”_ Gaddison inquired, poking at the mass cautiously with her spear, before stepping back when it collapsed, sending more deep blue flecks to the stars. 

“I don’t know,” Sidon answered simply, looking back over the dam, squinting to find any trace of you.

“What about the thief, sire? Should we pursue them?” Bazz inquired.

Sidon continued to stare down into the canyon, his gaze trained on movement in the river far below. Bazz and Gaddison shared concerned glances, before Bazz reiterated, “Prince Sido—“

“Send a search party out to the Lanayru Great Spring. That seems to be where they’re heading,” the prince ordered, snapping out of his stupor, “As they are wounded, I doubt they will make it very far. If you see them, do _not_ attack with the intent to kill. That will only startle them further,” Sidon turned, looking back over the dam, watching as you reached the eastern shore, “Simply capture them and make sure that the sapphire is returned,” he finished.

“Yes, sire!” both guards saluted, then retreated back into the reservoir. Sidon soon followed, but as he turned to leap from his perch, he caught a glimpse of you, far bellow, turning to look up towards the dam. Towards him. He tried to ignore it. 

As the moon reached its peak in the humid summer sky, blanketing Lanayru and all of its lush hills, lofty peaks, and crystalline waters in a sleepy, silver veil, you stood on the shores of Rutala River. Eyes closed, you took a deep breath, reveling in the light breeze cooling your damp skin and dripping hair. No longer bombarded by rushing waterfalls, shouting guards, and whizzing arrows, you were surrounded in glorious silence. Reaching into your satchel, you removed the Zora Sapphire, its polished surface reflecting the stars above. A significant chunk was now missing from one of the stones, creating a noticeable dent. You had _no_ idea what truly happened up on the dam, but whatever it was, it allowed you to escape. It had _saved_ you. And now, in the sapphire’s reflection, you saw a devilish grin begin to decorate your features. Before heading east to do business with your _friends_ , you thought, perhaps you would make a slight detour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: claustrophobia, allusions to drowning, allusions to death, electrocution.


	2. Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So these next couple of chapters are basically a curtain call, as well as set-up for that JUICY PLOT so we can get to that JUICY ROMANCE. I'm going to try to keep a consistent posting schedule, but I very recently and very suddenly got the opportunity to go back to school full-time so THERE'S THAT LITTLE OBSTACLE. 1 Like = 1 Prayer for Stressed Art Student. 
> 
> As usual, content warnings are in the end notes!
> 
> Also here's a fun game: count how many easter eggs I crammed into this chapter.

The mid-morning sun hung lazily in a cloudless sky, fully illuminating the lush trees and vibrant blossoms surrounding the grassy clearing. The wildflowers were giving their last hurrah, before the chill of autumn brought down a blanket of gold, brown, and orange. The wind sighed through the leaves, carrying the scent of cedar smoke from the distant chimneys of Castle Town. A flock of geese cried out from above, flying southward to escape the ever-changing seasons.

_Thwunk._

Beyond the wind and rustling leaves was the river, branching off from the castle moat and cascading down towards the rolling hills of Central Hyrule. Straining his pointed ears, he could make out the nearby drumming of a woodpecker, the far-off chime of a bell tower, and the ever-present humming of townsfolk going about their busy day. No longer was this island plagued by the cold, doom-laden churn of a guardian’s gears, trekking across the shores in search of prey. For a moment, he hears a splash, likely a carp jumping from the river to catch an unsuspecting gnat hovering just above the surface.

_Thwunk._

Flicking the shaggy, gold-tinged hair from his eyes, Link made a mental note to give himself a trim before notching not one, not two, but three more arrows and pulling the bowstring taut. The rough cord pressed against his calloused fingers as he stood up straight, taking a deep breath. Squinting against the sunlight, he eyed his targets, all propped up against three adjacent trees bordering the clearing. At this point, it was little more than a reflex, with Link hardly having to spare a second thought when drawing and readying his bow. Even aiming, no matter how precise the shot, was second-nature to him, as time had a habit of slowing down once the hero stared down the length of his bow-arm. He exhaled, releasing all three arrows.

_Thwunk. Thwunk. Thwunk._

Without fail, each arrow hit the center of its target. Reaching back, Link felt that his quiver was empty—not that he was bothering to keep count. He was mostly killing time, attempting to stave off the stage fright that, with each passing hour, crept ever closer to the front of his mind. He didn’t find many aspects of his position all that distressing, near-death experiences be damned, but he couldn’t stand all the pomp and circumstance that came with royal knighthood, on top of being the Hero of Hyrule. Though today’s ceremony would likely be one of the most important events of his life, he found the idea of being watched and fawned over by hundreds of strangers rather stifling. Releasing a long sigh, feeling the weight of a thousand obligations bear down on his shoulders, he jogged over to the first of many riddled wooden targets to dislodge his arrows, each one confidently protruding from a bright red, painted center. After collecting them and slinging his bow over his shoulder, he trudged over to the nearby archery station, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the shade, before gathering his things. Squatting down to rummage through his trusty leather satchel, he quickly realized that he had forgotten to bring along his Sheikah slate. Perhaps he would have enough time to swing by his quarters before meeting everyone at the sanctum, he thought. Not that he necessarily needed it, but he was hoping for the opportunity to take some pictures before and after the ceremony, especially now, with Purah’s recent updates—

_Thwunk._

Link’s head snapped back towards the clearing, eyes immediately drawn to a spot of sunlight glinting off the target nearest to him. A large, silver arrow now protruded from the center, exactly were Link’s arrow had been moments before. His ears twitched as he heard three, four, then five more arrows flit through the air, until each target surrounding the clearing had its own sunlit beacon, standing proud against the shade of the surrounding forest. Link’s brow furrowed, mildly disturbed from not hearing anyone approach from the road, until he finally caught sight of his unexpected guest. Across the clearing stood the zora prince, as tall and regal-looking as ever, his elaborate get-up matching the expensive-looking silver bow he held—which was easily as large as Link was tall. His brilliant scales put the wildflowers to shame, cool turquoise and striking yellow fins accenting his gleaming, crimson form. Even from a distance, Link could see his molten gold eyes, still as alien as they were familiar, regarding him with a stoic intensity. Link glared, facing the prince with both feet planted firmly on the ground.

  
“Show off,” Link remarked, locking the zora in his own steely gaze. The prince didn’t respond, instead continuing to stare, unflinching, at the daring hylian. Silence fell over the forest, before a breeze swept through the clearing, flattening the expanse of grass between the two. Link felt the corners of his mouth twitch. _Nope_. He pursed his lips into a sneer, squinting his eyes for emphasis. The zora mirrored Link’s expression, which only made the muscles in Link’s face tense more. _Nope. He can’t win_. Link squinted harder, puffing out his chest to make himself look larger, although compared to the natural stature of the prince, it was pretty much useless. _Nope. Nuh-uh—_

  
The two simultaneously burst into laughter, Link clutching his sides as Sidon’s own boisterous laughter bounced across the clearing. As soon as he caught his breath, Link sprinted towards the prince at full-speed, with Sidon kneeling in a routine gesture, setting his bow aside to catch the enthusiastic hylian. Link leaped forward, wrapping his arms around the zora’s wide shoulders, feeling the satisfying texture of his scales and cool metal ornaments beneath his fingers. Even with Sidon kneeling, Link’s toes barely touched the ground.

  
“Link! My dearest friend, it’s so wonderful to see you!” Sidon greeted, wrapping the young hero in a loving, bone-crushing embrace. At this point, Link was well-acquainted with the zora’s powerful hugs, finding comfort and familiarity in the arms of his closest friend.

  
“It’s good to see you too, big guy,” Link replied, nuzzling his face into the prince’s neck, breathing in the freshwater scent that all zora seemed to carry with them.

  
“Apologies for not seeking you out sooner!” Sidon started, gently lowering the hylian back onto his feet, “Our party arrived fairly late into the night, and I did not wish to disturb you. I know how seriously you take your slumber, O Hero of Hyrule,” he chuckled, giving Link a teasing pat on the shoulder.

  
“You probably wouldn’t’ve been able to wake me, anyway,” Link sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “It's been crazy around here, lately. I’m exhausted.”

  
“You hardly seem it, if it’s any consolation. Your marksmanship is as impeccable as ever!” Sidon beamed. Link gave a half-smile, not wanting to admit that his weariness was due to the sheer amount of talking he’d been doing more than anything else. Fighting a pack of starved lynels often sounded more appealing than having to endure yet _another_ welcome party for the many, many noble denizens visiting the castle. Link studied the prince’s features for a moment, realizing that the century-old zora probably had his fair share of political dinners to sit through on account of his lineage, although Sidon likely faired much better in the sociability department than himself, with his naturally jubilant demeanor and knack at lively conversation. He smiled, genuinely this time, imagining the large zora lighting up the room, almost forcefully, during some stuffy royal affair. The thought made Link almost look forward to whatever Zelda had planned for the zoras’ welcoming shindig.

  
“I would have liked to reach you much sooner, but your townsfolk seem to have taken quite the interest in me,” Sidon continued, a sheepishness creeping into his normally confident tone. Link snorted, picturing the people of Castle Town flocking around the tall, bright-red zora as he attempted to make his way through the crowded streets. Although the old trade routes had long been re-established, there were still many, particularly those from the west, who were unfamiliar with the sight of a zora, let alone one so large, handsome, and brilliantly decorated. Link had a foreboding feeling that the prince’s repeat trips to the capitol would usher in a new wave of admirers mirroring those in Zora’s Domain.

  
“Gee, can’t imagine why,” the hero quipped.

  
“Hylians are a wonderfully curious bunch!” Sidon chimed, “I could hardly get away, despite my eagerness to see you. I must admit, I had to answer at least a few of their questions. They seemed so earnest to learn about my people, I couldn’t resist!”

  
Link chuckled. _Yeah, “your people”, sure_.

  
“Now, what is this area, exactly?” the prince questioned, directing his eyes around the clearing, “I was told I might find you here, but I don’t recall seeing this place before.”

  
“Oh, yeah,” Link started, taking stock of the surrounding targets, “This place used to be a prison, back in the day. Zelda wasn’t sure if she wanted it rebuilt, so she asked me what I thought. I told her that a new training area for the guards would be nice,” he flinched as one of the abused targets toppled dramatically from its perch against a nearby tree. Sidon blinked, before Link spoke, “It’s a work in progress.”

  
Sidon flashed Link a grin, “Well, that sounds like a wonderful idea!” he proclaimed, standing to his full height. Sauntering across the clearing, the prince effortlessly yanked one of the silver arrows from its target. He cleared his throat, “So, what brings you out here so early? Escaping all the hustle and bustle?”

  
“Yeah, something like that,” Link followed Sidon’s lead, approaching one of the targets and tugging on an arrow, removing it after a bit more effort. Link studied the razor-sharp tip, a far-off look in his eyes, “Just feeling… kind of nervous,” he admitted.

  
“I’m sure you’ll do wonderfully, Link,” Sidon chimed, placing a few arrows back in his ornate quiver, “You always manage to do excellently in whatever you set out to accomplish. It’s quite impressive, really!”

  
“Thanks, Si,” Link chuckled timidly, feeling a wave of heat rise to his cheeks. He attempted to change the subject, “So, how’s the domain? Any updates on the sapphire?”

  
A pause fell over the two, causing Link to cease his arrow-collecting to look over at the prince. Sidon was facing a target, staring at its center with an unreadable expression, which concerned Link far more than if the zora had some kind of visceral, emotional reaction. Finally, Sidon sighed, shutting his eyes.

  
“Unfortunately, no,” he answered, voice unusually heavy, “Finding the thief proved to be tricker than expected, so we decided to search the nearby villages in hopes that they may have sold it. That, too, proved futile, I’m afraid.”

  
“I’m sorry. Sounds like it meant a lot to you,” Link spoke, voice laced with sympathy. Comforting people certainly wasn’t his strongest suit, but he would sure as hell try if it meant bringing the zora back up to his usual demeanor.

  
“In a way, yes,” Sidon smiled weakly, “I know it’s a bit pathetic, to get so… hung up, on something so material. Its true value is far more than monetary, I assure you,” he absentmindedly fiddled with his cravat, avoiding Link’s gaze.

  
“It’s okay, I get it,” the hero hummed. The prince looked unfocused, giving a sadly reminiscent expression that eerily reminded Link of Zelda—the way she would turn from him to stare at the ground or towards horizon when she spoke of her parents, or the champions. Link had the suspicion that Sidon was not telling him everything, but he figured the prince didn’t want to bring the mood down any further.

  
Link felt a twinge of guilt for souring the conversation, and opened his mouth to talk about anything else—the weather, the zora, what’s for lunch, _something_ —when Sidon brought a hand to his chin, eyes squinting, “Perhaps… Link, I just had a thought,” he hummed, “There _have_ been more frequent sightings of the Yiga around Lanayru these past few months, starting around the time the sapphire was stolen,” he turned towards Link, displaying his familiar, optimistic smile, “ _That_ might be our lead!”

  
Link smiled back, relieved that Sidon pivoted so quickly, as usual, but felt a nagging worry in his chest, “The Gerudo pretty much destroyed their old hideout a couple years back… maybe they’re looking for a new place to set up shop,” he replied. He didn’t like it. The thought of the Yiga gaining a foothold so close to Zora’s Domain, going so far as to infiltrate the palace, putting the royal family in direct danger, made his stomach twist, but his fear gave way to the instinctual urge to fight back.

  
“You guys want some help scaring them off?” he asked with a mischievous smirk, yanking out his last silver arrow. Sidon laughed, eyes gleaming at the small, rambunctious hylian.

  
“As much as I always enjoy your company, dear friend, I don’t think that will be necessary this time,” he began, closing the distance between himself and the hero, “You have much more important matters to attend to here, and I’m certain my soldiers will have little trouble handling those vandals if they cross into our domain.”

  
Link handed his bushel of silver arrows to the prince, looking skeptical as the zora continued, “In any case—oh, thank you!—we can discuss this at a later date,” looking down at the hylian, Sidon placed a firm, friendly hand on his shoulder, “This is a day for celebration, not worries and _what-ifs_!”

  
Sure, Link agreed, but it was difficult to let the subject go. Up until recently, his entire existence revolved around the protection of people—the protection of Hyrule—and while setting his fears, doubts, and duty aside for a single day might be good for him, as Zelda urged him to do many times before, he almost couldn’t help himself. He almost felt like a machine, at times—like an ancient turret, its single eye trained on its objective, with no ability to move from its designated spot, and no will of its own. He sighed, shifting his feet and pressing more weight against the prince’s sturdy palm. He needed to have more faith. Of course Zora’s Domain could handle itself—they were a resilient people with thousands of years under their belt. They’ve weathered far worse storms than an unorganized gang of thugs running amok. Link looked up at Sidon, whose tall frame was now shielding him from the sun, but before he could say anything more, a much older and boundlessly energetic voice rang out across the clearing.

 

“Master Link!”

 

The two turned to see Doctor Robbie, his short stature, wild hair, and signature goggles making him look as eccentric as ever. He approached from the nearby road, a heavy-looking leather pack in tow, with his wife, Jerrin, following close behind—a clipboard beneath one arm, a simple wooden bow on her shoulder, and a quiver full of arrows on her back. She smiled and waved at both Link and Sidon, her eyes crinkling pleasantly as her much older husband finally noticed the gigantic zora prince. The domes of his goggles flitted about, each moving independently of the other, fondly reminding Link of a lizalfos searching for a nearby fly to snack on.

  
“Oh, Prince Sidon, you’re here, too. Perfect!” he started, heaving his pack onto the grass with a metallic clamor, “I could use your expert marksmanship! How’ve you been, lad?”

  
“Perfectly fine, Doctor, thank you,” Sidon replied, approaching the smaller scientist and eyeing over his vast collection of tools with childlike curiosity, “I must say, what is all this? It looks as though you’re about to build something.”

  
“That we are! That is, we’re about to _test_ something!” Robbie announced, gesturing as if he were addressing a room full of onlookers and not just the three other people in an otherwise empty clearing, “When I awoke this morning, and saw not a cloud in the sky, I thought to myself, _what a perfect day for an experiment_! I’ve been itching to run some tests on these ancient arrows we’ve cooked up,” he finished, rubbing his hands together with giddy mischievousness. Sidon looked back towards Link, who simply shrugged, unfazed by the old man’s familiar antics.

  
“You might wanna hold off on that, doc. The coronation’s in just a few hours,” Link commented.

  
“Progress waits for _no one_ , dear boy!” Robbie exclaimed, tossing off the top of his pack, which was easily as tall as the man himself, and proceeding to rummage through its contents, “Now, just where did I put my slate?”

  
After a few moments of shifting through various odds-and-ends, which included a comically large wrench, a glowing ancient sword, and a metal canister of liquid with a painted symbol that Link could only assume meant, “caution: extremely flammable, corrosive, poisonous, and explosive. do not use unless you want everything in a 500 meter radius to be immediately vaporized”, Robbie finally found his personal Sheikah slate, pulling it from the pack’s depths with an “Aha!”

  
It was about half the size of the original Sheikah slate, with a cobbled-together exterior, as it was the Akkala Ancient Tech Lab’s first prototype in their efforts to recreate the wondrous piece of technology. Robbie fiddled with the screen for a moment, bringing it to life as it radiated the typical unearthly, bluish hue that all ancient devices held, “Master Link, if you’d come look at this,” the old man started, “Jerrin, my dear, the arrows, please.”

  
Link acquiesced, stopping next to Robbie and crouching slightly to look over the man’s shoulder as Jerrin removed her quiver, revealing a set of arrows with odd, bright-yellow attachments at the base of each head. Sidon, who had been nosily peering into Robbie’s rucksack, immediately noticed the arrow’s sheen, his eyes widening, “Pardon me, but those aren’t shock arrows, are they?” he asked, “I’m afraid I won’t be of much use, if so.”

  
“Not to worry, your highness! These are perfectly normal, un-enchanted arrows, each equipped with a small device I’ve created to enhance their performance,” Robbie replied, pressing several, multicolored symbols on the screen, none of which Link recognized, “Now, if I could just connect them to the slate…”

  
One by one, the arrows flickered to life, each attachment emitting a soft yellow glow, and a humming noise that sounded like a swarm of bees trapped in a jar, “Excellent!” Robbie nodded, “ _Now_ we’re in business! Link, if you could shoot a few of these arrows for me, please.”

  
“Sure,” Link half-shrugged as Jerrin passed him the quiver, giving him a knowing wink before turning back to her clipboard, jotting a few things down while Link gave her a skeptical look. Investigating the quiver up close, Link noticed that the light emitting from the arrows seemed to break off and fade away in several strands, like long, digital embers. It reminded him of the walls of ancient light at the end of each Sheikah shrine, which would blink and shatter at his touch before the remnants of a monk would bestow upon him some sort of spiritual gift. Part of him missed discovering those shrines, and hoped that he and Zelda would discover more during their diplomatic travels. His train of thought was cut short by Sidon, whose shadow now fell over him as the prince stood beside him, bending down slightly, golden eyes shimmering with excitement and wonder.

  
“Pardon me again, but what do these arrows do, exactly?” he asked, pointing at the contents of the quiver, somewhat daintily, as if gesturing with his usual enthusiasm would cause them to short-circuit.

  
“I’m glad you asked!” Robbie beamed, adjusting his goggles before continuing, “Recently, I’ve been experimenting with combining our current, primitive weaponry with ancient technology, in order to bring our new artillery into the future! Or, well, past, in this case. Regular ancient arrows are all well and good, but I’ve been wanting to create a new type of arrow, one that will fully utilize our research! An arrow that will not only pierce its target, but—well, it will be much more enlightening for you to see yourself!” At that, Robbie quickly made his way over to the nearest target, standing a few meters to the side, before pointing to his wife, “Alright, Jerrin, experiment number twelve for group A of the enhanced ancient arrows is a-go! Link, let ‘er fly!”

  
Link equipped his bow and pulled out one of the arrows, placing it between his fingers before resting the arrowhead against the handle. It felt odd, vibrating against the joints of his forefingers much in the same way a shock arrow would, only there was no telltale pin-pricking sensation traveling up his arm. He looked up at the target, then to Robbie, “Okay, so… I’m just supposed to shoot _normally_ , or…?”

  
“Yes, yes, whatever works best for you!” Robbie exclaimed, placing his hands on his hips, “As long as you hit the target!”

  
“ _Okay_ , then,” Link sighed under his breath, incredulous, but truly just as curious as the puppy-like prince waiting eagerly beside him. Not knowing what to expect at all, he lined up the shot, releasing the arrow and hitting the bullseye not a second later.

  
Silence fell over the clearing as the four spectators waited, the distant chirping of birds and the tapping of Jerrin’s pencil the only sounds permeating the veil of anticipation. After a few beats, Robbie took a few cautious steps towards the arrow, grumbling as he reached up to fiddle with the the device, which barely stuck out of the target’s burlap cover. Link and Sidon exchanged looks, the hylian shrugging as the prince gave him a mildly confused expression, before their wordless parlay was interrupted by the sound of wood violently splitting apart, followed by the popping burst of a small shockwave beneath their feet. As the smell of smoke filled the air, Link looked back to find the target in a million pieces, the tree once supporting it now covered in soot and the surrounding grass blackened completely. A split second later, he and Sidon ran over to check on Robbie, who was flung onto his back a few yards away.

  
“By the goddess! Doctor, are you alright?” Sidon asked, quite literally lifting the singed scientist to his feet.

  
“Yes, yes, I’m perfectly fine, thank you,” Robbie righted himself, brushing off the prince’s supportive grip, “Not meeting my maker just yet!” he reaffirmed, before removing his goggles, which left a perfectly clean imprint on his soot-covered face. He squinted past Link, who was standing in front of him in case the old man was bluffing and suddenly decided to collapse.

  
“Hm… perhaps their connection to the slate needs an adjustment,” Link heard Jerrin speak, realizing that she barely budged during this whole debacle. He guessed that things blowing up in Robbie’s face was so common an occurrence that it wasn’t worth his wife fretting over anymore.

  
“Very astute, Jerrin! Perhaps therein lies the problem! Speaking of which…,” Robbie started, scanning over the surrounding area for his lost slate, which must have flown out of his grip in the explosion. Spotting the small, stone-like thing in the grass a few paces away, Link went to retrieve it.

  
“I presume you did not intend to make bomb arrows, Doctor?” Link heard Sidon say, making the hylian chuckle as he passed off the slate to the exasperated Sheikah.

  
“Far from it!” Robbie sighed, scanning over the screen as he trudged back over to his giant rucksack, “Looks like these ones will need more quality time in the lab before being tested in the field… the slate will need some more fine-tuning as well…”

As the morning wore on, and the sun inched higher into the sky, Link and Sidon resumed their pattern of archery and friendly banter as the Sheikah couple brainstormed ideas for different experiments they could perform on the enhanced arrows. However, the relatively peaceful atmosphere was broken by another voice shouting from the road.

 

“Master Link!”

 

The group turned towards an approaching Castle Town guard, dressed in the formal white-and-navy garb historically worn during public celebrations, hemmed in gold fabric and topped with a classy beret. It he weren’t expected to wear his champion’s tunic, Link may have donned a similar outfit. The guard stopped at the edge of the clearing, bowing hastily to Sidon before saluting to Link and catching his breath. Link made a face, waving a hand half-heartedly at the poor guard to signal his at-ease.

  
“Master Link,” the guard relaxed, “Princess Zelda requests your presence in her quarters, sir.”

  
_That_ caused Link to raise a brow. He figured that the princess would be busying herself with getting dressed, the _last_ thing she could possibly need Link for, but he nodded anyway, dismissing the guard before looking back up at Sidon.

  
“Well, duty calls. You’ll be alright on your own?” Link asked, half-jokingly, not entirely certain that the prince wouldn’t get lost among the winding streets and jovial crowds as he tried to reach the palace. The prince beamed, flashing a smile that glinted in the sunlight.

  
“Why, of course!” he replied, not catching onto Link's sarcasm in the slightest, “I’ll be heading back soon to meet with my father and help prepare for the ceremony. Let’s talk soon, my friend!"

  
“Sure thing! As soon as this is all over,” Link replied as he gathered his things, of which there were few. Throwing his bow, quiver, satchel, and the Master Sword over his shoulders, the hero bid his friends farewell with a wave, beginning the long trek down the sandy pathway back into town. As the trees around him began to thin, and the grove opened up to the shores of the castle moat, Link heard Robbie’s voice pipe up some ways behind him.

  
“Oh, excellent! Groups B and C are up and running! Prince Sidon, could you assist me in a few more experiments?”

  
“Oh, dear…”

———

Approaching the northwest entrance of Castle Town, a lush canopy of trees served as a tunnel framing the ancient, ivied walls as Link made his way through, nodding to a guard as he entered. Walking along the winding path towards Main Street, Link could hear dozens of heels clicking against the cobblestone, brushing shoulders with folks visiting from all corners of Hyrule. Turning onto a familiar road, he passed by his favorite bakery, catching the scent of freshly-baked bread wafting from the building’s roaring furnace. A striped awning of gold-and-lavender overhung a curved, rose-pink door and a wide window with the words “Gotter’s Royal Bakery & Tea” painted in shimmering gold on its surface. Inside, Link could see group of Gerudo women, guards on break, by the look of their sparse gold armor, sitting and enjoying their morning tea with a group of traditionally-dressed Sheikah. Next to the shop was an alleyway, where a few gorons were unloading sacks of flour from a wooden cart, along with several bags of gravel, which made Link wonder what goron baked goods tasted like. Or how there were even made at all.

  
Turning onto a wider street, close-by to the docks, Link passed a group of bright-eyed zora youth, watching as they bartered with a bearded hylan mariner over today’s catch. Formerly home solely to freshwater fish and sunken treasures, the wide rivers surrounding the town were now teeming with ships, and it wasn’t too uncommon now to see a trade or passenger vessel sailing through the great waters of eastern Hyrule. The development certainly sped up travel, at least for those who didn’t have a nifty little device on their belt that allowed teleportation. Looking around, it was hard to believe that just a few years ago, Castle Town was nothing more than a pile of rubble and decay, crawling with sticky, corruptive goo and deadly automatons. The only evidence left of such destruction was the occasional empty lot that had not yet been bought up by some excitable entrepreneur, such as the one Link passed moments later—a grassy patch between two shops, lined with century-old stones that were once part of something larger, now home to a group of travelers chatting and eating breakfast around a crackling fire pit.

  
After weaving around a few more corners, avoiding bottlenecks, and dodging directionless tourists, Link finally emerged onto Main Street, which was much wider, more breathable, and covered in flat, multi-colored stone tiles placed in lattice-like patterns, juxtaposing the uneven cobblestone of the side streets. Looking southward, Link spotted several, brightly-dyed triangular banners, strung between balconies and flapping lazily over their heads, trailing all the way down to the main plaza and the great fountain, now fully restored and practically overflowing with crystalline waters. Surrounding the fountain was a group of rito dancers, all drenched in flowing, colorful attire matching their vibrant feathers, spinning in a formation around the plaza and awing a gathering crowd. As they finished their routine, the dancers broke off into a flying formation, swooping over Link’s head as the crowd cheered, watching as they soared over the marketplace. Following their flight, Link’s gaze landed upon the castle, its tallest towers framed by spiraling scaffolding. While still under construction, it stood just as proud as it had been for hundreds of years before. Along the castle walls, facing the town, hung several long, heavy, royal blue banners, each adorned with the classic royal emblem, their golden, iridescent surface catching the sunlight.

  
As he crossed the castle bridge, Link could hear the rushing waters beneath his feet, and greeted the guards who were stationed on either side of the main entrance. The crowd was much thinner here, yet the massive iron gates had been purposefully left open, allowing guests and castle staff to move to and from town during the day’s preparations. Beginning his ascent up the main road, Link paused to look back out over Castle Town, noticing how the expanse of cobalt-blue rooftops looked almost like rolling waves, and as he continued his walk, he observed that the sheer, surrounding cliffs, which both supported the castle and provided protection from naval attack, were no longer barren, but were now covered in a blanket of soft grass, tall pines, and enchanting blossoms, many of which were silent princesses—their soft, blue petals swaying hypnotically in the breeze. As the road began to turn, sloping up towards the first gatehouse, Link realized just how much the recent repairs had done for the castle. Much of the antiquated brickwork was not only restored to its original glory, but was now accented with modern flourishes of carved stone and sculpted metal. Most of the castle was now safely habitable just in time for the coronation, thanks to the tireless work of the Bolson Construction Company, who, in just a few years, grew from a ragtag bunch of workers into a sprawling, many-employed conglomerate (while still somehow maintaining the “-son” naming requirement), in no small part due to the princess’ hefty commissions. The kingdom’s treasury had been left miraculously untouched in the wake of the Calamity, and remained so in the fallout, even with the countless thieves and explorers pillaging the castle’s ruins. Thankfully for the Kingdom of Hyrule, Ganon’s vengeful spirit had little interest in earthly riches.

  
As Link passed through the first gatehouse, waving to a few guards along the way, he decided to take a quick detour, veering off to the right and down a long, spiral staircase into the castle’s depths. The rushing river, chittering birds, and buzzing townsfolk were muted and exchanged for the sounds of bustling castle staff, their footfalls cushioned by the plush, scarlet carpets covering the tiled halls. Down here, where the crowd was scant and faces more familiar, Link was met with a routine stream of greetings.

  
“Good morning, Master Link!”

  
“Happy coronation day, Master Link!”

  
“Are you excited for the ceremony, Master Link?”

  
Link’s responses were simple, straight-forward, and decorated with a small smile, which the castle’s denizens had come to expect from the quiet hero as he unassumingly walked past a few apron-clad, flour-dusted staff, slipping into the castle’s kitchen. Immense and overwhelming, the culinary cavern was a maze of giant, stone ovens, long, marble tables, and shelves upon shelves of ingredients. From the ceiling dangled several pots and pans of iron and bronze, bushels of herbs, and an array of dried meats, while a collection of chefs milled about beneath, some focused, some frantic, as they prepared for the festivities. The entire area was comfortably warm, filled with the rich scents of spices, broths, and pastries. He had seen it a million times, but it still awed and excited him, and his stomach eagerly agreed as it rumbled from neglect, reminding Link that he somehow hadn’t eaten yet that morning. Spotting an unsupervised tray of steaming buns, Link didn’t hesitate to snatch one, tossing it between his palms before taking a bite, the exploding, sweet berry filling burning his tongue, but continuing to eat it anyway.

  
“ _You!_ ”

  
_Oh no._

  
Link spun on his heels, mouth full of pastry, coming face-to-face with Lorn, the castle’s head chef and his own mortal enemy. A towering Gerudo woman with fiery red hair pulled back into a tight bun, she brandished a steak knife in his direction, scowling.

  
“Oh _no_ you don’t! You cause far too much trouble in here on a _normal_ day! I can’t have you floundering about and making a mess of things before the festival! _Out_!” She prodded the knife in his direction, before grabbing his shoulder with her free hand and effortlessly spinning him around, shoving him towards the exit.

  
“ _Mphurghna?_ ” Link retorted, mouth still full as he shamelessly scarfed down the rest of his dumpling.

  
“ _None_ of your excuses! I don’t want to see you until the coronation, now shoo!”

  
Link turned back around, raising his hands in a placating gesture as Lorn squinted, the tip of her knife glinting menacingly, before he backed into something hard and jagged. Wait, he thought, isn’t there supposed to be a doorway here?

  
“Um… can someone help me? I think I’m stuck…” Link heard a small, muffled voice say.

  
“Yunobo?” Link turned around, finding that his exit was blocked by a large, rocky protrusion, except this large, rocky protrusion happened to be the back of his timid goron friend, who was indeed stuck in the doorway. Its wooden frame bowed comically outward in a way that Link thought shouldn’t even be possible, which only made the laughter bubbling up in his chest more difficult to suppress.

  
“Oh, and take _that_ one with you!” Lorn commented, gesturing toward the two of them with her blade, “That boy’s a clumsy menace,” she stated bluntly, before turning and strutting away to resume what Link assumed to be butchering duties.

  
“Okay, big guy,” Link started, cracking his knuckles for good measure, “Hold still.”

  
“I don’t really have a choice,” Yunobo replied, feeling the hylan press both hands firmly against his back, pushing with all his might.

  
“How’d this happen, anyway?” Link grunted, switching positions to brace one shoulder against the trapped goron, using his legs to press the bulk of his weight into the large fellow.

  
“I was running some errands, and I wanted to help out before the ceremony, and uh… now I’m here,” Yunobo’s sheepish voice came from the other side of the doorway.

  
“I can see that,” Link replied with a low chuckle.

  
“Sorry, Link… I just get so nervous before stuff like this, I gotta keep myself busy or else I— _woah_!”

  
There’s a woody popping sound, much like a cork popping from a glass bottle, and a massive _thud_ as Yunobo was released from the doorway’s grasp, toppling over onto the floor. Link almost met a similar fate, but merely stumbled and caught himself.

  
“Gee, thanks, brother. I don’t know what I’d do without you!” Yunobo sighed in relief, before sitting up and self-consciously fixing his normally perfect quiff of snowy white hair.

  
“It’s no problem,” Link gave a small laugh, “Just uh… you should probably stick to parts of the castle built for non-hylan folk. I’d try the main hall, if you wanna help out with the preparations,” he held out a hand to help Yunobo up, which was more of a polite gesture considering the young goron, like all his brethren, was partially made of solid stone.

  
“Sure thing,” Yunobo replied, getting to his feet, “It’s just… I get so nervous before big formal events, I gotta keep myself busy or else I freeze up! I wish I was as good at this kinda stuff as you,” the goron wrung his large hands together, eyes fixed at the ground.

  
“Hey, don’t sweat it. I’ve been feeling pretty nervous, myself. I’m just more used to it at this point,” Link smiled, catching Yunobo’s gaze, “If you feel like you’re getting too nervous up there, just keep your eyes on me, okay? We’ll get through this together!” Link tried his best to channel his inner Sidon, which became a habit when pep-talking the uncertain goron, barely catching himself before he unconsciously mimicked the prince’s signature pose. It seemed to work, however, as Yunobo’s face lit up.

  
“That does make me feel better! Thanks again, goro,” Yunobo gave Link a wide grin, “Guess I’ll head over to the main hall, then. See you at the, uh… what’s that place called, again?”

  
“The sanctum,” Link replied, “It’s right up north of the main hall.”

  
“You got it. See you there, brother!” Yunobo chimed, before hurrying away. Link noticed that he wasn’t rolling, as gorons tended to do when in a hurry, but then recalled something Yunobo once told him, about it being impolite in goron society to roll when you are a guest in someone’s home. The hero shook his head and smiled to himself, before resuming his original mission, making his way down the hall, around a corner, and up a flight of stairs back out into the sun.

  
Further up the cliffs, the noise of castle town was a distant murmur. Here, the walls were higher, blocking view of the moat and the countryside, though Link could still hear the ringing of a ship’s bell far below. Surveying the wall, he noticed that the stones were washed and polished from their former smokey pallor to a light, cloudy gray, and between each turret hung streams of crimson, navy, purple, and gold. Most importantly, Link noticed there were no guards stationed along this wall, and in fact, he had seen barely any guards on this stretch of road, which wasn’t too alarming, he supposed, considering most of the action was happening in the lower half of the palace. It didn’t sit right with him, however, just leaving a large chunk of the grounds unsupervised, especially after the incident in Zora’s Domain. He needed to grab a few of his soldiers on the way to the sanctum and get them posted, at least until the coronation was over.

  
Link’s train of thought was interrupted by a noise from above, somewhere behind him. Tensing, his hand instinctively flew to the hilt of the Master Sword, head snapping back, half-expecting a flashing red beam, laser-focused and ready to kill. He saw nothing, however, just an empty stone turret topped with a swaying, earthy-green banner. Link relaxed, sighing. His nerves must be really getting to him, if the first thing he thought was that he was being attacked by a possessed guardian—something that hadn’t been seen on the castle grounds in years. He turned back, strolling further up the road, until the same noise grabbed his attention, still behind him. This time, he was able to hear that it was not mechanical at all, but a sudden flapping, as if someone from the turret was airing out a rug. Before he could look back, he felt something press down on his shoulders, and only with a glimpse of white feathers and large, storm-gray eyes, he recognized his assailant.

  
Link let out a startled yell, collapsing dramatically as if hit by a volley of arrows. Young Tulin let out a similar yelp, hopping off the hero’s back in surprise.

  
“Link! I can’t believe I _actually_ snuck up on you!” he chirped, flapping his wings gleefully. Link did not respond, however, still lying motionless on the cobblestone.

  
“Link?” the rito boy paused, before bending down to inspect the hylan’s face, “Oh no… did I really hurt you? Link, I’m so sorry! Oh, _please_ wake up!”

  
Tulin leaned in, about to place a wing on Link’s shoulder in order to jostle him awake, when the hero’s eyes snapped open, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. Tulin’s eyes went wide, opening his beak to gasp, but instead released a fit of startled laughter as Link tickled his sides.

  
“ _That’s_ what happens when you let your guard down, little guy!” the hylian cheered, ruthless in his mirthful attack while Tulin batted his wings at him, playfully.

  
“Okay, _okay_! I get it! I surrender!” he pleaded, hopping out of Link’s reach. Link laughed, now getting a better look at the young rito, who was clad in traditional formal clothing—a combination of sky blue and deep green fabric, with the rito emblem emblazoned across his chest.

  
“How’ve you been, Tulin? Looks like you’ve gotten taller since I last saw you,” Link started. Indeed, it looked as if the boy was easily at the hylan’s chest now, although he still had his soft, downy feathers, as opposed to the smooth, silky feathers marking rito adulthood.

  
“Yeah, I think I am!” Tulin chimed, “I’m still the shortest one in my class, though…”

  
“Nothing wrong with that. I mean, look at me,” Link gestured to himself, “I’ve always been on the shorter side—for a hylian, anyway. But I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. I’m sure you’ll be as tall as your old man in no time!”

  
Tulin couldn’t help but titter at the irreverent way Link referred to his father, when suddenly, a shadow flitted by above their heads, and a familiar flapping sound caught their ears. As if summoned, a much larger rito swooped down, landing with picture-perfect form just a few feet from the two. Teba stood there, his shimmering silver feathers and burning amber eyes complementing his burgundy leather armor and polished rito breastplate. He regarded Link with a nod, before turning his gaze to Tulin, wearing a look that gave Link a serious case of déjà vu. Although he could barely remember anything about his own father, he was confident that he had been given that look before.

  
“Tulin,” Teba started, “It’s not wise to wonder off. This place is much larger than the village, it would be easy for you to get lost.”

  
Tulin deflated under his father’s calm, yet stern tone, “Sorry, dad. I just wanted to see Link before the festival.”

  
“Hey, Teba,” Link gave a small wave, “Long time no see. How’s the village?”

  
“Rather well, actually. Thanks to you and the princess, things have been relatively peaceful,” Teba replied, and Link could have sworn he almost saw a twinkle in the stoic rito’s eye, “I’m thankful for it,” he continued, “It’s given me more time to spend with Saki and help with Tulin’s training.”

  
“Oh, Link! I was gonna ask you,” Tulin started, “Is that a royal bow on your back?”

  
Link blinked. Oh yeah, he was carrying one of those, wasn’t he. So many of them were littered around the castle back when he first woke up, he had almost forgotten that they were particularly valuable. He unequipped the long, elegant thing, holding it out for the young rito to see. Tulin inspected the bow with unapologetic wonder, and Link briefly wondered if he, too, had an uncanny fascination with weaponry when he was a child. He must have had, right? It would certainly explain his current tendency towards hoarding an “unreasonable” amount of weapons, as Zelda put it. Link had attempted to explain to her before that, no, it wasn’t unreasonable for the head of the Royal Guard to have an extensive collection of ridiculously powerful weapons, and that it was cool, actually, which was followed by him attempting to wow her with one of his many giant flaming, frozen, or electric swords. This was usually met with a deadpan expression and a simple “Okay”.

  
“That’s so cool!” Tulin chirped, looking over the lovingly painted wood and golden, winged accents, “It’s crazy that something that old still still works!”

  
“ _Hey._ ”

  
“Oh! Sorry, Link.”

  
Link laughed, “It’s fine. Yeah, I just came from practicing at the new range we’ve been building.”

  
“That reminds me,” Teba chimed in, “I should tell you that Tulin’s aerial marksmanship has been greatly improving these past few months,” he beamed, swelling with fatherly pride.

  
“ _Daaaaaad_ ,” Tulin groaned. Link chuckled, watching as Teba smiled down at his son. The older rito had certainly gotten better at showing affection, which, unfortunately for Tulin, came with the price of being bragged about.

  
“You’re gonna have to show me your new skills before you leave! Who knows, soon you might have to give me a few pointers.”

  
“Pfft, yeah _right_ ,” Tulin snickered.

  
The three continued to chat for a bit, making small talk about Rito Village, Tulin’s schooling, and Saki’s newest recipes, which Link eagerly volunteered to try, before Teba brought them back to the here-and-now.

  
“We should get going,” he started, looking down at Tulin, “Your mother is likely wondering where you flew off to.”

  
“Uh oh…” Tulin laughed nervously. Link gave him a sympathetic smile.

  
“We’ll see each other soon!” he promised, “After all this madness is over.”

  
The wind whipped around Link as the two departed, with Teba first, and Tulin following close behind, soaring high into the air and out towards castle town. Link let out a breath, watching as the two became matching silver specks against the wide blue horizon, when he suddenly remembered why he came all this way in the first place. Swearing under his breath, he set off at a jog, not wanting to waste any more time than he already had. Taking a shortcut around the second gatehouse, Link passed through the doors leading to the castle’s west wing, climbing the winding staircase up into the conjoined towers containing the princess’ chambers and study. After greeting the guards stationed at the top of the stairs, Link finally made it to Zelda’s door, which was at the end of a long hall draped in priceless tapestries, all worn and faded from a century of decay.

  
Taking a deep breath, he tentatively knocked, unsure of what to expect.

  
When no response came, he knocked again, harder.

  
“Zelda?” Link called out, “You in there? It’s me.”

  
A few moments passed, and still, nothing. Link’s brow furrowed. Was she napping or something? It would be strange, considering it was mere hours before they were both needed. The hero briefly considered inviting himself in, just to be safe, when there was a clamoring from within the chambers, followed by a startled yelp. Steeling himself, Link unsheathed the Master Sword, turning the knob and rushing inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Food. That's pretty much it! Let me know if you would like me to add additional or specific warnings in the future! :)


End file.
